


Long and Lost

by callmenewbie



Series: Lost hearts in the dead of night [1]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Mentions of War, Post-Episode: S01E06 Rare Species, Slow Burn, Travel, soothsayer!Jaskier, yearning to touch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:02:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23685097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callmenewbie/pseuds/callmenewbie
Summary: Hundreds of years ago, soothsayers used to be a part of everyday life, but many of them became victims to men’s greed and bloodthirst, like so many other magical folks, leaving behind not much about their nature and abilities, but side notes and myths. There wasn’t a single one of them left. Or maybe just the one.OrJaskier wants to warn Geralt about the man in the winged helmet and reaches out to him in a way, he never did before – through his dreams; ending up exposing himself and even though they are on different points of the Continent, they always stay connected.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Lost hearts in the dead of night [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1705615
Comments: 34
Kudos: 640





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'll never get enough of nonhuman!Jaskier, or so it seems...  
> Title from the song Long & Lost by Florence and the Machine.  
> I sincerely hope you'll like it! :)

_He couldn’t hear anything; it was one of those dreams. But he could smell burned out fires, rotting flesh and blood smeared on steel. He saw an army; an enormous army, in black armours and strict steps. One of them was special; he could feel it, when their gaze met. The man in the winged helmet, he wanted something, someone. He was with the army, yet separated. His goal was not territory and power for the Empire, he wanted something much more special._

_He followed his eye line and he could see a small body, a child running away in the distance. He couldn’t see much, but a blue cloak and milky blond hair, as her figure disappeared in the woods. He’d seen her before, in other dreams, kinder dreams._

_He knew what he had to do._

*

Ever since his childhood, he knew that he was different. Not in a way that was visible, but there were things coming to him in his dreams. For years he couldn’t understand it, he only knew that some of his dreams held more meaning, more weight than others.

Hundreds of years ago, soothsayers used to be a part of everyday life, but many of them became victims to men’s greed and bloodthirst, like so many other magical folks, leaving behind not much about their nature and abilities, but side notes and myths. There wasn’t a single one of them left. Or maybe just the one.

*

He never done this before, but he read about it in the old tales. Soothsayers were able to appear in people’s dreams, although in Jaskier’s opinion, they never used it for anything useful. People used to think that their own dreams had meaning for their future, so they would hire a soothsayer, who would appear in their dreams and watch it, then tell them about it in the morning.

Now, this was great in theory, but since there was so little information left behind, there was nothing else he knew about this technique. He didn’t know if he appeared in one’s dream, can he talk to the person? Will he be able to shape the dream in case he can’t talk? Also how real the dream would be? Would it affect him physically if something would happen to him in someone else's dream?

But these problems could wait for a little longer, as his very first problem was: how to even start?

He wasn’t sure, if he had to be awake or asleep for it, so he tried both. He tried to concentrate on Geralt’s mind, but since he had no idea what that even supposed to feel like, even if successful, he wasn’t sure he was doing it right.

First he tried when he was awake, but he couldn’t feel much anything else, but his own surroundings, so he waited until he was asleep. For days, nothing happened, but he didn’t– couldn’t give up.

Suddenly, one night he found himself in a place where he hasn’t been before, it wasn’t a dream, yet _something_ was different. He was standing on forest ground, under the light of the stars and it felt so real, but he was very aware that he was asleep and it wasn’t the same forest he actually fallen asleep in either.

He stepped forward, but he found something weird about his steps, he expected the leaves to rustle under his feet, but when he looked down, he sort of saw through himself; his feet didn’t actually touch the ground when he moved. It was fascinating.

He walked forward a few steps and then almost broke down with relief when he saw Geralt. It wasn’t like when he saw the witcher in his dreams either; his image was clear and unmoving and there was a small body behind him, he could see the milky blond hair. The Child Surprise. So the dreams he saw were what he thought they were. Which meant his visit was truly important.

Geralt wasn’t asleep, he was sitting up with his legs under himself and Jaskier knew he was in a meditative state; he saw this many times over the years they’ve spent together on the road. So at least now he knew it worked even if someone wasn’t asleep. Or it was down to the witcher’s own build. Either ways, he deemed that a good start.

“Geralt” he whispered and the witcher’s eyes snapped open, focusing on him immediately. He hoped it’ll work, but it still took him by surprise that Geralt could actually _see_ him.

“Jaskier?” He asked confused and got up from the ground.

He wanted to say why he came, but he hasn’t seen Geralt in months and somehow just looking at his face, lit by the moonlight and frowning, his lips apart – Jaskier forgot the whole world for a moment.

“I...” he started weakly and tried to remember that his visit held importance. “I’m here to warn you.”

He wanted to say more, he wanted to explain the dreams and tell him about the man in the winged helmet and everything, but suddenly there was nothing. No unrustling leaves, no witcher and no dreams.

He was awake and although he’d been sleeping until now, he felt so drained he practically fainted back to sleep.

He tried the next night and the next three nights after that, but the connection ended in mere seconds, it was severed before he could even say a word and he had to realise that it required too much of his energy, therefore the more he tried the shorter amount of time he could hold it up. So he gave it a rest in the next four days, hoping that Geralt was still alright.

This time he stepped into an inn room, with the girl in the bed and Geralt on the floor, meditating yet again.

“You need to actually sleep sometimes” he said and Geralt snapped his head up, just like the last time; apparently he couldn’t sense the connection until Jaskier made his presence clear.

“What about your sleep? I wager you're awake, while you’re here.” He said with a cocky smile and Jaskier couldn’t help but smile back. He missed the man so much, he could feel his heartbeat hammering in his chest just by hearing his voice and seeing his face.

“Well, in fact I’m not, not physically anyways, but I suppose I am, in a way” he said thoughtfully.

“Why are you here? You said you wanted to warn me.”

Jaskier nodded.

“Yes. I can see people, looking for you, for the child. They’re troops, they belong to Nilfgaard, but one of them, the man in the winged helmet; he only cares about the girl, nothing else. I don’t know what he wants with her.”

“Where are they now?”

“I don’t know.” Jaskier said a little disappointed. “I keep seeing them, marching on, but I can’t recognise the place.”

“Seeing them?” The witcher inclined his head curiously and Jaskier leaned against the wall, not touching it at all.

“In my dreams. That’s how I’m here now.”

“Are you-?”

Jaskier didn’t get to find out what Geralt wanted to ask, because suddenly he found himself gazing at the stars above him. _Damnit._

He learned his lesson and waited five days this time, before even trying, but he couldn’t reach Geralt on the sixth night, nor on the seventh. On the other hand, there was a new dream coming to him; he heard a voice talking about nothing of importance, but he could also hear the noise of a tavern and the barmaid’s voice. And he knew that voice, it was Marica, a gorgeous woman with a shape of an hourglass and a beautiful smile, even if her teeth were a little crooked, Jaskier always found it charming.

He knew exactly where they were now.

The next night he tried again and there was still nothing. He was starting to get really anxious, but there was nothing else he could do, but keep on trying each night, while spending his days nervously pacing up and down behind his door and entertain the masses in the taverns. He always found that a great song or two took away his mind and the people’s of their worries, if just for a little while.

On the ninth day he could finally step into a stable, where he found Geralt alone, save for Roach.

“Are you alright?” He blurted out without really meaning to, but he had to know, it was way too long.

“Yes. She’s inside the house.” He indicated the place with his hand. “No one lives here anymore, but we’re only staying the night.”

Jaskier exhaled slowly and nodded.

He looked at the witcher and he knew he would deny it, if asked, but he was tired. Exhausted, even. Geralt was sitting on a bale of dry hay and even his posture was a little off, loose but not in a good way. Jaskier’s visit relieved him from his previous worries, but gave him new ones.

“I couldn’t reach you for days” he bit his bottom lip, pretending to pet Roach’s head, touching nothing.

“I had to stay awake. We were passing through a dangerous area.” Geralt sounded almost apologetic and Jaskier nodded again, understandingly.

There was a short silence, but they were both aware that the connection could be severed in any second.

“I didn’t think you’d come back.” The witcher said quietly.

If Geralt was talking about his nightly visits or in general, he didn’t specify and Jaskier averted his gaze instead of acknowledging him.

“I found out where is the army. They are in Vizima, or they were a couple of days ago anyways.”

Geralt visibly relaxed.

“They are far away from here.”

“I still don’t know why they want her.” Jaskier offered softly, he tried to help, but his knowledge was limited to faint smells, voices and blurry visions.

“I might know the answer to that. Or part of it anyways.” Geralt said, peering towards the stable door, possibly checking if there was anyone who could be listening to him. “She’s special, in a way.”

“Oh” Jaskier inclined his head, curiously. He remembered her mother’s betrothal ceremony and wondered, if she was special in the same way, as Pavetta.

“Apparently, so are you.” Geralt added a bit sharp, examining his see-through visage and Jaskier felt exposed.

“Well. You could say that.”

“When did you want to tell me?”

“I didn’t.” He said firmly, meeting his gaze.

“What are you, even? A sorcerer, a druid?”

Jaskier shook his head. “Nothing of sort. I’m a–“

Their connection ripped apart and Jaskier felt his heart beating fast and his head ache sharply.

In five days he tried again, ending up on a clearing, by the edge of the woods. He could see the remains of the campfire and the two bedrolls. Geralt was actually asleep this time, yet he was still outside his dreams. He wondered not for the first time, if it was because he was a witcher, or because Jaskier was doing something wrong. He was not complaining though, he wouldn’t really want to end up in a dream about monsters. Also, he didn’t want to intrude his mind, in case he’d end up touching onto something deeply personal. Jaskier always rather enjoyed, when Geralt shared parts of himself with him of his own will.

“Geralt.”

The witcher sat up so quick that he nearly gave himself a whiplash. Then he sighed with relief.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you” he said kindly and took his place by the fire pit, only a few feet away from the witcher. He was close, but somehow he could feel just how far away they really were from each other.

“My medallion doesn’t recognise you.” Jaskier could tell that it bothered the witcher; Geralt didn’t like surprises.

“I suppose it’s because I’m not actually here.” The bard mused and Geralt considered him thoughtfully.

“So what are you then? If not a magician of any kind?”

Jaskier knew this question was coming, but he was afraid that Geralt might not react well to the answer, even though he knew the witcher liked to preserve and help species on the verge of extinction. On the other hand, he’d known him for over two decades and failed to mention this to him, he might take it as a sort of betrayal.

So he avoided his gaze and only whispered the answer into the night wind.

“A soothsayer.”

Geralt was silent for a few moments.

“There hasn’t been any reported in hundreds of years.” He didn’t sound mad, which Jaskier took as a good sign and encouragement enough to look at him.

“Yeah, I barely could find anything about it. It is a real miracle I can do this, to be honest. I’m still not sure how, though.”

The witcher studied his face for a long moment.

“Are you gonna come back?” Geralt asked quietly and yet again Jaskier wasn’t sure what he really meant. He didn’t even know where Geralt was heading or where was he right now.

“I don’t know” he answered finally and before Geralt could say anything else, Jaskier found himself in his inn room, wiping away tears from his cheek.


	2. Chapter 2

Jaskier didn’t try to contact him again for two weeks, mainly because he was busy; he had to attend a king’s betrothal and then the said king’s niece’s wedding, which lasted for three days and ended up in a bloodbath, so he had to run for it and rather quickly.

The other reason was that he didn’t know what he would say to the witcher. His latest dreams were confusing and unintelligible. He could hear voices, but he didn’t recognise them and they didn’t say anything important, he smelled smoke and leather, dust and horses, but he already knew they were Nilfgaardian troops. There was nothing new in that.

And then he didn’t know how to answer Geralt’s question. Because he still couldn’t decide if he wanted to return to him, or if he even asked him to. After all he must have had his hand full with the princess, Jaskier might prove to be a liability, rather than a helpful companion.

Perhaps it would be just better to see them into safety and then continue his life in much of the same fashion, as now; travelling alone, dwelling on his memories about the times they’ve spent together. But those – without an exception – always ended on a painful note, where Geralt had left him behind in the inn without so much as a word, or disappeared after a contract with a single wave of his hand or when he sent him away, telling him how he wished he could get rid of him for good. That last one was burned into his mind permanently.

He wasn’t sure he could survive that again.

But he hasn’t seen them in his dreams for a while now and not talking to Geralt meant not knowing if they were alright and it slowly drove Jaskier insane. So finally, he went to sleep and stepped onto rocks, somewhere in the mountains. He couldn’t tell, which ones.

The girl was asleep on her bedroll and a layer of fur and there were two other furs draped over her body. Beside her, Geralt was sitting on his own bedroll, in his travel coat, but no furs whatsoever.

“You’ll freeze” Jaskier said tenderly and although he couldn’t actually feel the temperature, based on the wind and the height, he was sure it must have been below freezing point.

“Jaskier” Geralt’s eyes landed on him with a sort of mixed expression, relief and hurt. Jaskier didn’t know what to do with that. Ever since he started these visits, Geralt seemed to be more open somehow. Jaskier used to catch glimpses of his smiles and frowns over time and he’d like to think that he learned to read the witcher well, even when Geralt was trying to hide behind his grunts. But that was just it. It didn’t feel like he was hiding anymore.

“Hey” he breathed.

Geralt got up and stood close to him, really close. His coat slid a little askew on his shoulder and Jaskier reached out to fix it for him, but when he saw his own translucent hand, he pulled it back. Geralt fixed it for himself.

“You look tired.” Geralt pointed out and Jaskier chuckled a little.

“You’re one to talk.” He smiled at him fondly. “I had quite a few weeks, I must tell you, royals are still just as lustful and bloodthirsty as always.”

“Are you hurt?” Geralt asked seriously and the sudden care and attention had Jaskier feeling a little flimsy.

“I’m fine” he dismissed him with a breezy wave of his hand. “Are _you_ alright?” he looked him over worriedly, because he could see a new scar on his forehead and he knew that there wasn’t much to find in the mountains to hunt this time of the year. Taking care of a child in these conditions must be hard for the witcher.

“Yes” Geralt said simply and Jaskier looked over his shoulder, admiring the view.

“I haven’t found out anything new. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

He looked back at the witcher and suddenly he looked so vulnerable, Jaskier wanted to cup his face into his palms and tell him that everything is and will be alright, but the ability to touch during these times were taken away from him. Maybe it was for the better, since he wasn’t sure how Geralt would take his touch.

“Look, why don't you-?”

He never found out what Geralt wanted to ask, because then he found himself being woken by a horrible rumbling sound from outside, making him sitting up straight. There was a storm, ripping through the trees; lightning and the sound of thunder filled his inn room. He flopped back against the scratchy bedsheets and pulled the cover up to his nose.

The next night he saw a map and a stick following the troops’ positions and route. So he contacted Geralt straight away, but the conversation was cut shorter than expected.

“They are in Ellander now and-“

Geralt didn’t say anything, but his horrified expression conveyed more than any words. Jaskier couldn’t even note his surroundings, before he found himself back in his bed.

Jaskier couldn't reach him for an entire week after that, making him biting his bottom lip bloody.

On the eighth day, he finally got to him. The scenery was familiar, woods and a trickling stream by the camp. He has definitely been here before, although he wouldn’t actually be able to point it out on a map.

“What happened?” Was the first thing he asked and Geralt didn’t jump at his presence anymore, but he did smile at him, making Jaskier weak in his stomach.

The fire was still burning, painting the witcher’s hair and skin orange and drawing long shadows on his face. Jaskier wished he could just stay here, in this moment forever. Just watching the dark contours on the witcher’s handsome face and the dark outline of his body. He could almost fool himself into feeling the warmth of the fire.

“We were in Ellander, we had to get away fast” was Geralt’s answer and Jaskier was glad he could notify him in time, he didn’t want to think about what could have happened otherwise. He knew Geralt could take care of himself, but it wasn’t some common monster or townsfolk, it was an entire army.

“They are heading to Hengfors League, through Redania,” he told him as he sat down opposite him, making sure he informed him, before their connection would get severed.

“Where are you, Jaskier?” Geralt asked and Jaskier recognised the way he furrowed his brows, it wasn’t annoyance or anger like most of the times, but worry.

“I’m safe,” was all he said and even now he wasn’t sure why he wouldn’t tell the witcher his location. Maybe it was just a tiny little part of him, which was afraid that they were closer than he’d thought. He didn’t know where Geralt was going; to which direction and from Ellander he could have reached many places by now. Faraway or very close.

“Jaskier.” Geralt said meaningfully, only Jaskier didn’t know what he meant, so instead of a response to that, he asked:

“Are you gonna be alright? You’re not close anymore, are you?” He didn’t even try to keep the worry out of his voice.

“No.” Geralt said and Jaskier could tell that he wanted to say more, but he stopped there and Jaskier just nodded.

“That’s good. Uh, how is, how is she?” He pointed at the lump on the ground, behind Geralt. He never really saw her before, only asleep or in his own dreams, but he mainly smelled her scent mixed with the witcher’s and saw her hair, but never her face.

“You’d like her,” Geralt smiled at him fondly. “And she would like you.”

Jaskier smiled back at him.

“Of course she would like me, I’m the greatest bard on the continent!” He exclaimed pompously, just to lighten the mood really, but it quickly came back, crushing down on them.

“What are you gonna do with her? I mean, she’s just a child...” _And you kill monsters for a living_ , he added in his head.

“I’m taking her to Kaer Morhen. To train her.” Geralt averted his gaze and Jaskier looked at him in disbelief.

“To train her… to be a witcher?” He asked tentatively and crossed his legs in front of himself, leaning back on his arms.

“Yes.”

“Hm-mm” Jaskier nodded thoughtfully, before something occurred to him. “But you said, you can’t make witchers anymore,” Jaskier looked at him confused. “Or were you lying to me? Because if you were, I swear to all gods I-“

“I wasn’t lying,” he grunted through his gritted teeth and Jaskier supposed he touched a nerve, although he wasn’t sure which one.

“I told you, she’s special. I can’t take on a child, who can’t protect herself.”

Jaskier knew Geralt for decades and he knew that things people said about witchers were mainly based on myths and a distorted version of reality. He knew that Geralt had many emotions, even though he hid them well most of the times. So he also knew that he didn’t want this life for the girl and wished for all the stars and gods that he might change that, but he couldn’t. So he did what he could; get her trained and make sure she can stay alive in a world full of monsters.

He nodded promptly.

“I’m sure you’ll do your best.” He smiled at him, but before Geralt could answer, the connection broke.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are some graphic descriptions in the second paragraph, please proceed with caution (you can also just skip it).
> 
> Also I'm sorry about the ending of this chapter in advance. Oops.

For an entire week, Jaskier woke up swimming in his own sweat, entangled in his sheets. He was serving at court again, but thanks to his nightmarish visions he couldn’t really enjoy the soft bed and quality drinks and food, especially because he lost his appetite when the dreams first started.

He watched as people got impaled on swords and as knights raped women and children, fires burning and babes being cut in half and stabbed in their sleep. Nilfgaard was invading new territories, as they went along. Ever since the battle of Sodden Hill, they were unstoppable, because even though the sorcerers have won the first fight, they had no power left to stop a second and a third wave. They were marching forward.

The visions were horrible, but this time the news came from court not from his dreams; Nilfgaard took Tretogor.

It was just a little too close for Jaskier; so he filled his purse and moved on the very next day after his engagements.

He made up camp on a clearing, in the high grass, protected by nature’s shelter and in the night, he contacted the witcher, mainly because he wanted to see him, hear his voice; know that they were alright. He knew that they must be somewhere in Kaedwen by now and wondered if they heard about the Empire at all.

He stepped into a cave’s narrow mouth and it seemed humid and warm. He could see the fire still burning low, the girl lying by the wall and Geralt yet again meditating in a sitting position.

“I really hope that you do sleep, I’m just always coming at the wrong time,” he said softly and took his place by the fire, beside Geralt and it was almost like old times, except for the translucent body and their limited time.

“Hm” was all the answer he got from the witcher before he would open his eyes; there was a faint smile on his lips, but that disappeared as soon as he saw Jaskier’s face.

“What happened to you?”

“Nothing.” He said dismissively, but Geralt crossed his arms over his chest expectantly.

“Fine, my dreams. The past week I had to watch Nilfgaard taking cities after cities... watching it, hearing it, smelling it…” He hugged his knees to his chest and examined the child’s sleeping form. She looked so fragile in this way.

“I’m sorry,” said Geralt and Jaskier knew he meant it. The witcher knew how soldiers and knights behaved in war. Taking and claiming, be it power or life.

“You never actually talked about your dreams.”

“Well. They are…” Jaskier was looking for the right words, but it was hard to describe. “Vivid, but it’s not like reality. Sometimes I only hear things or smell things, other times I can see and hear everything at the same time. I don’t always understand them, especially when I can’t see, those are tough ones... Sometimes it’s something happening now and sometimes they are things yet to happen.”

Geralt looked at him or past him, Jaskier wasn’t sure and poked at the fire with a tiny stick.

“Where are you now?” He asked absentmindedly, probably expecting Jaskier to change the subject, instead of answering, as usual.

“I’m close, close to them. Just left Varlburg.”

For that Geralt’s head snapped up at him.

“Jaskier, that’s like three days walking from Tretogor! Tell me, at least you have a horse.”

“I don’t have a horse Geralt, you know that. Although I might have to get one.” Jaskier mused.

They weren’t talking for a few moments, then Jaskier whispered, gazing into the fire. “I’m afraid, Geralt. This is really not good.”

Geralt opened his mouth to say something, but then they’ve been separated and Jaskier wasn’t sure if he minded it or not. He thought he knew what Geralt would ask next and he still didn’t know how to answer that question.

He missed the Nilfgaardian army, but just by a slim straw. To avoid them all-together, he turned north-east. He actually bought a horse, because on feet it wasn’t just slow, but it became dangerous of late.

He passed a town where he planned on taking rest, but seeing the people, he was afraid someone might slit his throat in his sleep for his money or his clothes, so he galloped on. It wasn’t their fault he knew, it wasn’t in their nature, it was the war and poverty, forcing people to do things they wouldn’t otherwise; everyone just wanted to survive.

He hoped the next town would look more promising, because he was never big on hunting, that was always something Geralt was more adept in, Jaskier was better at gathering and by better he didn’t mean _good_. But he made do. He picked some whitebeam berries, it was not much, but enough to keep his hunger at bay, for now.

He reached out to Geralt and found him in an inn room, with two beds, in one of them slept the girl – unknowing of her visitor – and in the other the witcher. Jaskier knew that Geralt rarely had the opportunity to sleep in a bed and he always felt bad about that, because he knew Geralt would stop in more towns, if people weren’t so hostile to witchers; the situation was better lately, which Jaskier took credit for entirely, but it still wasn’t an undivided success just yet.

He decided to let him be, but instead of severing the connection himself, he sat down and watched the man sleep, peacefully. His entire face looked smoother than when awake, his eyebrows unfrowning and his lips slightly apart; a beautiful sight indeed. He could never get bored of watching Geralt being content and calm. The witcher deserved more of that.

A week later Jaskier reached out again, he was still heading north-east, at this point he couldn’t decide if it was still to avoid Nilfgaard or for something else.

He stepped into, well a puddle actually, luckily his boots weren’t actually here. They’ve made camp in a thick forest, covering most of the light coming from above, leaving almost full darkness down here. There wasn’t even a fire this time.

“Geralt” he whispered and the witcher’s eyes snapped open and for a moment he just looked at him, considering.

“I haven’t heard from you in weeks. I thought maybe…” He didn’t finish it, but Jaskier could tell what he wanted to say, just by the hurt look on his face. Jaskier stepped closer, he wanted to reach out, to caress his cheek with his hands, to pull him in an embrace or even just lean their shoulders against each other, like he used to do – he could give anything to be able to touch the witcher right now.

“I’m sorry, I’ve... been busy of late. But I’m fine.”

“We aren’t far from Kaer Morhen now,” Geralt said quietly, “a few weeks and we’ll be there.”

Jaskier nodded. He knew what was coming and he still didn’t have an answer, although he felt like it didn’t matter anymore.

“Why don’t you come with us? You could spend the winter there, in safety.” Geralt offered.

Jaskier looked him in the eyes and the witcher was practically pleading and the bard felt like someone was squeezing his heart and making it bleed.

“I don’t know… I mean, why would you want me around? You said, you said that…” he couldn’t finish it, but they both knew what he was talking about.

“I was wrong. When I said that. I’m sorry. But think about it.” Geralt said and he sounded guilty and hurt at the same time, keep making Jaskier’s chest ache with white hot pain. “Please.”

Jaskier nodded, but couldn’t say a word and it was just as well, because suddenly he found himself gazing at the ceiling of his small tent. He sighed painfully.

He couldn’t give an answer to Geralt, but he started to travel faster, taking two days at the time, stopping only for short rests throughout the days so his horse could eat and refresh herself, then continued on switching between galloping and slow ride. By the next week he was in Buina.

Geralt must be already in Vespaden by now, he thought.

He made up a small camp in a sudden dip of ground on the edge of a forest and chewed on some bread thoughtfully. Keeping his pace, he could make it to Vespaden in about five days, maybe four if he pushed it. By that time Geralt could be in Kaer Morhen and he knew that there was only one way into the keep and it was dangerous and difficult, he couldn’t make it alone.

He lied down in his tent, but sleeping came late and heavy and when he reached out, he felt it immediately; the flickering of his form, the connection was weak, possibly because he was too tired to keep it together.

He saw an inn room with two beds, Geralt was sleeping in one of them. He didn’t look nearly as peaceful as the last time he saw him sleep.

“Geralt” he whispered, as usual trying not to spook him and the witcher looked at him, frowning. There was a stray hair falling onto his forehead and Jaskier wanted to reach out and sweep it away.

“You look… different.” Geralt said, pointing out his unsolid form.

“I’ve been travelling hard. To north-east.” Even his voice was raspy and nearly unrecognisable.

The witcher looked at him, mouth slightly agape, hopeful.

“Where are you now?”

“Buina. But I’ll be in Vespaden in about five days, maybe four.”

“Jaskier, don’t push yourself too much. You have to rest.” He said firmly, making the bard smile.

“You’re one to talk.” Jaskier joked, but then for a moment he didn’t see the inn room, neither did he see his little tent. But then he was back in the room, furiously flickering. “Just, wait for me, okay? I’m coming, I swear.” He said, before he finally found himself on the ground, lying in his tent.

It has been six days. Geralt and Ciri stayed in the inn, waiting for Jaskier to arrive, but there was no sign of the bard so far. He said five, maybe four days.

Geralt was anxious, because Jaskier was always good at finding trouble, but now he was clearly exhausted and Geralt was afraid that bandits might have bested him on the road. Ciri didn’t even know why they were waiting in Vespaden, just days away from Kaer Morhen. He told her that they are waiting for someone, but he didn’t say who and why. He talked about Jaskier quite a lot over their travels, but he never painted him in the context of who he actually was to him.

Seven days passed and Geralt started to think they should move on, he had to keep Ciri safe and the longer they stayed in one place, the bigger was the chance that someone would find out who she was. On the other hand, he really wanted to give just a little more time for the bard to show up, because he couldn’t really deal with the thought of losing him again, just yet. Just a little longer, he decided.


	4. Chapter 4

Night has fallen and there hasn’t been many people around anymore, Ciri was already sleeping in their room and Geralt was sitting in the tavern, listening to the swishing noise as the barmaid cleaned an old jug with a rug. The light on the inside painted everything red and orange, keeping a harsh contrast against the blue covering everything outside, in the winter night. It was quiet inside, but it was silent outside; everything muted by the snow.

So he was surprised when suddenly he heard something from the outskirts of the town; it was distant and he had to concentrate hard to pick it out, but he was sure what he was hearing was a familiar heartbeat. Geralt got up from his table, abandoning his ale and he stormed out into the cold and the snow, not stopping until he could see him.

He was sitting on the back of a white horse with light brown spots, wearing a big black fur coat with its hood up. When he was near enough to see Geralt, he halted.

Their gaze met for a fleeting moment, then Jaskier was dismounting the horse and fighting his way through the knee-deep snow over to Geralt, who did just the same.

They clashed in a warm embrace and Geralt couldn’t believe that he finally could touch him; being able to see him and talk to him all these times, without touching him was harder than he could ever imagine.

Jaskier buried his face in the crook of his neck. Geralt was only wearing his shirt and the cold clinging to the bard’s clothes transferred to him instantly, but he wouldn’t let go for the world.

“I’m sorry I made you wait.” Geralt didn’t know if he was talking about now or regarding the question he was keep asking him, but he didn’t care. It didn’t matter anymore, because he was finally here.

He ran his hands up on the bard’s back and breathed in the scent of his hair; elderflower, dust and the cold air sitting in it. He put his palms on his face and tipped his head upwards. Jaskier looked up at him and his nose and cheeks were pink from the cold wind, his bright blue eyes were just so much more beautiful like this, when he was _really_ here.

“I’m glad you’re here” Geralt said and Jaskier was leaning into his touch and he tried to dismiss it thinking it was probably just the warmth of his skin Jaskier was seeking, but then he turned his head and gave a soft kiss into each of his palms.

“Me too.” He whispered and smiled at him tenderly and it was the most natural thing in the world to just lean in and kiss Jaskier right here and now.

His lips were freezing cold and a little chapped, but his mouth was warm and Geralt could feel himself getting lost in his touch and just knowing that he’s here, actually here. He was grasping Jaskier’s coat, pulling him closer, even when there was no more _closer_ left. Their tongues found each other instinctively, doing a dance they’ve never learned, yet always knew.

They fitted together perfectly and Geralt felt that despite the cold, his body was reacting to Jaskier’s eagerly.

Finally Jaskier pulled away slowly and smiled at him kindly.

“I don’t want to spoil the mood, but it’s freezing and I’m afraid poor Perla won’t stand it much longer, neither will I for that matter.” His teeth were chattering by now, which wasn’t surprising since they were still standing in the knee-deep snow.

Jaskier walked back and picked up his horse’s bridle and started leading her, a he caught up with him again, Geralt grabbed his other hand, holding it in his own as they made their way towards the inn.

Jaskier paid for a place in the stable and some oats for his horse, then asked for a room. But they’ve spent the better part of the night talking and drinking in the tavern, stealing light touches from each other on the table top and tangling their feet under it. Jaskier just couldn’t believe that he finally could talk to the witcher, without being suddenly ripped apart.

Jaskier hoped to invite Geralt into his room, but didn’t know how to approach the subject and when they headed upstairs Geralt opened the door of his room without a word of goodnight. Jaskier would be lying if he’d say he wasn’t disappointed, but he supposed there will be other opportunities. He sighed and turned towards his own door.

Before he could even put his hand on the doorknob however, he heard Geralt shut the door, still standing in the hallway. Oh, he thought, he was just checking on the girl.

“Are you–?” Jaskier asked and let Geralt step into his space, cornering him against his own door.

“Tonight, I won’t let you slip away,” he murmured onto his lips, before he kissed Jaskier and his body flushed against his own and Jaskier could feel the desire and lust radiating from the witcher and he was just as weak against him, as ever.

He reached behind his back blindly to open the door and they stumbled inside. Geralt wouldn’t let him farther than an inch, still kissing him and mapping his body with his hands and Jaskier started to take Geralt’s shirt off, while he was fumbling with the top of his doublet, unbuttoning it impatiently. When he was done with the last button, he pushed it down his shoulders with a soft and slow caress, never stop kissing him.

Jaskier buried his fingers into the silvery locks and suddenly felt overwhelmed, because this was it. This was the very thing he wished for in the past and never stopped wishing for.

Geralt’s calf hit the edge of the bed and he sat down slowly, pulling Jaskier into his lap and the bard placed his knees on the two sides of his thighs obediently.

Geralt hands never stopped moving over his back and stomach, under his nearly undone chemise and Jaskier was already losing it and they were still almost fully dressed.

Jaskier pulled back, just a little, just to see him, the fog in his eyes and the parting of his lips, to feel his touches still lingering on his skin, even though his hands were settled on his hips.

“Are you alright?” Geralt asked and Jaskier could tell that he was worried about him and it made his heart swell up in his chest. Instead of an actual answer, he pushed Geralt down to the bed by his broad shoulders, crawling over him and started to kiss his neck, his jaw and behind his ear, winning a soft moan out of him.

“Jaskier, I…” Geralt trailed off and he pulled back again. He pressed the side of his thumb against the witcher’s bottom lip and caressed it, following its contour, rendering him speechless.

“I want you” Jaskier whispered, hoping that Geralt would finally understand just how crazy he was about him.

Geralt wanted to say something – which Jaskier was sure was an excuse of sort – so he leaned closer and murmured into his ear.

“Geralt, please. I was fantasising about this for _years_ , thinking that it would never happen.”

Jaskier lay with many people before and he was proud to say that he felt love and care towards those in his bed, but what he felt for the witcher was a pure fire that he could feel not only in his body, but his very soul. Giving himself up to him was something that wasn’t just a way to spend time enjoyably, but to declare his feelings with actions instead of words, after all he knew Geralt. Actions always spoke louder than words with him.

“Take me,” he whispered and breathed a feather light kiss to his lips. “I am yours,” he kissed his cheek “now” his jawline “and” his neck “forever.”

He whispered the end of it into his ear and to punctuate his words he bit down on his earlobe, just a little harder than a tease and he could tell he reached his goal because Geralt grabbed his waist and turned them around with one swift movement, pushing him into the mattress and settling between Jaskier’s legs, grinding their hips together.

Geralt gave out a low groan and Jaskier shivered with lust. He repeated the motion making Jaskier gasp for air and dig his fingers into his shoulders, to gain some grounding. Geralt kissed down his neck, while he lifted up his hips just enough to unlace Jaskier’s breeches and wasting no time he wrapped his fingers around his already very hard erection.

“Geralt” he whined out desperately and it just made the witcher fasten his movements, making Jaskier writhing under him helplessly.

He craved this for so long, to touch, to be touched. He was afraid he won’t be able to enjoy it too long, if he was going on like this. He ran his fingers along the defined muscles over Geralt’s back, mapping the familiar scars, distantly noting new ones and welcoming the older ones, like long lost friends. His brain was about to shut down, as he neared in his inevitable climax and he tried to hold on just a little longer, just a bit more, but it was coming, tipping his head back, curving his spine and he wasn’t able to do anything, but repeat Geralt’s name over and over, until the white hot fog took over and ripped him out of this plane.

Jaskier came with a loud, open-mouthed moan and trembled into the witcher’s touch and he didn’t stop moving his hand until he could feel the last bit of shiver passing Jaskier’s body, lengthening his pleasure as much as possible.

It took him long moments and deep breaths before he finally found himself back in the inn room. Geralt was looking at him like he was the most valuable jewel in the whole wide world and somehow it made his heart ache with a lovely pain.

“Okay?” He asked with a low voice and Jaskier nodded erratically.

“I believe it’s my turn to prove my worth” Jaskier said with a mischievous grin and before the witcher could answer, he kissed him, and with a light touch on his chest he coaxed him onto his back, climbing on top of him.

He took his place between Geralt’s thighs and started to unlace his trousers, with shaking fingers.

“Jaskier” Geralt said hoarsely. “You don’t have to…”

“Oh, that’s where you’re absolutely wrong my dear witcher,” he smiled at him and despite his verbal protest he lifted his hips obediently, so Jaskier could pull of his trousers, watching hungrily as his hard cock leaned against his stomach. “I definitely _must_.”

Jaskier took his arousal into his hand and started jerking lazily, while he leaned down to lay open-mouthed kisses on his chest, stopping occasionally to lick and bite at his nipples, one after the other, pulling sweet little moans and hitched breaths out of him.

He made his way lower and lower with each kiss, licking a long line down on his abdomen, until he reached his lap, he bit into one of his hipbones lightly and Geralt hips jerked upwards impatiently. Well who was he to make the great White Wolf wait?

He turned his attention towards the member in his hand and licked a wet circle on the top of it, mixing his saliva with bitter precum, then with one movement he swallowed him as deep as he could, holding onto the base with his fingers, his nose touching the light hairs on his underbelly. Geralt made a sound between a groan and a growl and he grabbed Jaskier’s hair firmly, making him move, creating a rhythm for them that Jaskier followed happily. He hollowed his cheeks, sucking on earnestly, occasionally breaking the flow of his movements, making Geralt’s breath hitch.

For the sounds the witcher made Jaskier already could feel his body waking up again, but he only cared about Geralt now, taking him deeper and deeper, until his movements became ragged and uncontrolled, thrusting into his mouth hard and furious and he held on, driving him through his climax the way Geralt did with him. Feeling the taste of his spent filling his mouth, he kept bobbing his head slowly, from the tip to the bottom, until he swallowed the last drip and only then he stopped moving.

He pulled off with a wet pop and Geralt looked at him incredulously and in response Jaskier showed him a cocky smile. He had hard plans on getting the witcher’s cock inside himself the next time, but now he just lay down beside him, letting Geralt pull him on his broad chest and put his chin on the top of his head lovingly.

Jaskier was tired beyond belief, but he wanted to stay awake for this moment, for this eternal piece he felt, like everything in the world just fallen into place. But sleep claimed him before he could even say a word, but he knew that finally tonight he could sleep knowing that the witcher was safe and close enough to touch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this chapter was mainly filth, but I hope it was enough to ease the tension.  
> Those of you who are still wondering just what took Jaskier so long to get there, it will be revealed in time, I promise.  
> Stay tuned with the series to find out more.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this update comes a little later than usual, I don't actually have an excuse, I just almost forgot to post it. Oops.

Geralt watched Jaskier as he paced in the room up and down, fidgeting nervously. He sighed.

“Why are so nervous about this?”

Jaskier stopped abruptly, looked at him incredulously and then kept on pacing.

“Because, because it’s _your_ Child Surprise! If she hates me, that’s like, that’s like... see Geralt I can’t even come up with a simile.” He threw his hands in the air desperately.

“I’m sure you’ll be fine. I already told you, she’s gonna like you.” Geralt said and stepped in his way, making him stop again. He hesitantly put his hand on Jaskier’s shoulder and the bard looked up at him, wrinkling his forehead and crossing his arms over his chest.

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because she barely can wait to meet you.” Geralt said with a smile, as he heard her excited heartbeat through the door.

“What? You told her about me?”

Geralt clenched his jaw, afraid that he might have said too much.

“Vaguely.”

“Oh, Geralt!” Jaskier sounded touched and Geralt sighed in relief.

“Don’t make a big deal out of it. I had to tell her something why we’re waiting here for nearly a week.”

Jaskier didn’t have to know just yet that Geralt was talking about him long before his first visit in the night. He was sure Ciri will point it out to him in time, but he could keep it from him at least until then.

“Come on, let’s get over it.” Geralt grabbed both of Jaskier’s shoulders and turned him towards the door and for the nervous little yelp the bard made he added, softer: “It’s gonna be fine. I promise.”

As Geralt opened the door, just as he expected Ciri was standing there impatiently and as she saw Jaskier she jumped up and hugged him, nearly overthrowing him. Jaskier looked pleasantly surprised.

Ciri pulled back after a few moments.

“I’m sorry. Geralt was talking about you a lot. I was worried about you.”

“Well, I–” Geralt heard Jaskier’s heartbeat fasten and hoped he won’t start crying. Ciri gave him a small curtsey.

“My name is Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon.” She introduced herself in proper manners.

Jaskier gave her a tender smile and bowed a little by court fashion, seemingly finding his element in it.

“Julian Alfred Pankratz at your service,” Ciri looked at him a little surprised “but you can call me Jaskier” he winked at her, making her chuckle behind her palms.

“Time to go.” Geralt declared, leaning on his sheath briefly, before picking it up and heading to the door. He didn’t miss the way Jaskier exchanged a look with Ciri, as he passed them both.

“I’m sure he’s eager to get there.” Ciri whispered behind his back.

*

They left the inn behind and Jaskier made sure he packed enough bread and filled his waterskin.

At first Geralt rode Roach, Jaskier and Ciri rode Perla, since they’ve agreed Jaskier weighed less than Geralt and tiring out the horses before time would be unwise. They travelled this way for two days, but then the road became too narrow and more dangerous, so they dismounted the horses and led them carefully. It all would have been much easier if a snowstorm wouldn’t have broken out on the fourth day.

In Vespaden, Geralt reckoned they could reach the keep in five days. Now instead of one remaining day, he was talking about three. In these conditions three days sounded a lot to Jaskier. It was cold and they were running low on food – although they might just be fine, since Geralt refused to eat, saving his part for Ciri and Jaskier always said he’ll eat later and then he just didn’t. Days old dry bread wasn’t much, but much more than nothing and to Jaskier’s surprise Ciri never complained about it, nor about the cold, or anything really, despite coming from a royal stock, which made the bard wonder just what she’d been through before Geralt found her.

He set up his tiny tent for Ciri, it was made of a rather thin fabric, so it didn’t give much warmth, but it stopped the wind efficiently. At first she tried to argue, but Jaskier just told her that he had another tent and in the mornings he simply said to her question about it, that he’d already packed it up before she woke up. He didn’t think she was fooled this easily, but she must have understood that Jaskier will insist on this no matter what.

On the sixth day of their travel, Geralt managed to light a fire for the price of three ignis, since all the wood was too damp and cold to keep the fire burning. Jaskier gave the bread to Ciri and taking his own mind away from his hunger, he tried to pluck at the strings of his lute, but his fingers grown cold too easily and he couldn’t play in gloves, so he settled for huddling up close to the fire, gazing into the embers. He could feel the witcher’s eyes on himself ever since they’ve set up camp.

Ciri retreated to the tent, leaving them sitting by the fire in content silence. Jaskier watched as the horses sleepily nuzzled their snouts against each other and knowing how proud and temperate a beast Roach was and what a scaredy-cat Perla was; he was glad they’ve got along well.

“We should reach the keep by tomorrow night.” Geralt said out of nowhere and Jaskier took his gaze back from the horses, focusing on Geralt, as he worked on his sword, rubbing delicate oils onto its blade.

Ever since they’ve left the inn Jaskier felt wrong-footed around the witcher. He didn’t know what was allowed between them. In late nights Geralt stayed up meditating, leaving Jaskier sleeping on his bedroll alone, on the other hand while on the road, he caught Jaskier by the waist not once, when his foot slipped on the bumpy, snowy ground. But even when they were alone he barely touched him and haven’t kissed him since they left Vespaden. Jaskier wondered if that was all what it was. A passionate night chasing away loneliness, becoming nothing more than a bittersweet memory over time.

“The bread should be enough,” Geralt said meaningfully “for the two of you.”

Jaskier looked at him a little sheepishly. “So you’ve noticed.”

“You’ll need your energy. We won’t stop anymore until we’re there.” He said softly and Jaskier sucked his bottom lip between his teeth and nodded, but he didn’t take any food. To be fair, he had his fair share of hunger on the way to meet Geralt as well, sure it wasn’t pleasant, but it was manageable.

Geralt sighed a little, but didn’t push the subject, instead he put his sword aside.

“Jaskier, come here.” He said softly and Jaskier scrambled up from the ground obediently, making his way over to the witcher. He was sitting on a large log and Jaskier stopped in front of him, not knowing what else was expected of him.

Geralt reached out and took Jaskier’s hand into his, tugging lightly, until Jaskier was standing over him, legs on both sides of his thighs and hugged him carefully, like he could break or pull away any moment – like he would ever do that. Geralt pressed his head against Jaskier’s abdomen and he buried his fingers in his white hair.

Jaskier slowly lowered himself down, into Geralt’s lap and took his face into his palms. He could see everything in his golden eyes, however unspoken it was; he could feel the lust and devotion and _love_.

Jaskier leaned in for a kiss and caressed the witcher’s face tenderly, while Geralt’s hands held onto his hips, even through his clothes tight enough to bruise. In response Jaskier bit down on his bottom lip, not hard, just teasing and Geralt growled deep in his throat.

“If you keep this up, I won’t be able to hold back.” Geralt murmured onto his lips and giving emphasis to his words he thrusted up a little, grinding their groins together and Jaskier could _clearly_ understand what he meant. And although he was half-hard already, freezing to death or being interrupted by a sleepy teenager were neither an option he would like to take.

“I’m sorry,” he said entirely unapologetically. “I’ll try to behave.”

Despite everything, it was an obvious lie; he made a slow circle with his hips, grinding them together again and Geralt made an unholy sound; impatient, lustful. Jaskier didn’t think he could stop, cold be damned.

Geralt thrusted up again and Jaskier gasped with an open mouth. They really should stop now.

They didn’t.

Jaskier was panting wantonly into the witcher’s ear, his breaths riddled with tiny moans, while Geralt was moving furiously under him, chasing his climax. It caught up with them soon enough. Jaskier tried to keep it low until now, hoping that Ciri wouldn’t wake up, but when he reached his orgasm, he held onto Geralt’s shoulders with whitening fingers and threw his head back with a loud groan, stimulating Geralt’s movements even more. Geralt bit down on his neck, hard enough to break skin and growled into it, as his thrusts became shallow and slow.

They didn’t move for a few minutes, leaning their foreheads against each other, catching their breath. Jaskier spoke at last.

“Tell me that there are actual beds in the keep.”

Geralt snorted out a short laugh and ran his hands up Jaskier’s back under his coat.

“There are. And baths too.”

Jaskier thought about a hot bath and then about sharing it with a wet, naked Geralt. He could definitely get used to that.

He straightened up and walked over to his saddlebags, pulling out two delicate handkerchiefs. Well they were not exactly made for this, but they’ll do.

“Here.” He handed one to Geralt and then used the other one to reach into his trousers and wipe himself around. This part was definitely not pleasant, but in this cold his balls would freeze off, if left too damp. Geralt followed his lead.

Jaskier settled on the log leaning against Geralt’s side, warming by the fire.

“So you say one more day, huh?”

*

They’ve reached the keep by sunset as promised, without any more storms or distractions and although the thought of a warm bed and thick walls that kept out the wind and the cold were so promising, Jaskier could barely wait for them, his stomach started to knot into a nervous little ball, as they halted by the gate.

“Will there be others?” He asked hoarsely, gripping the bridle of his horse tightly.

“Witchers?” Geralt asked, as he stopped by his side. Jaskier nodded.

“Yeah.”

“I don’t know. We’ll find out soon.” Geralt said and put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing reassuringly. “It’s going to be alright.”

Jaskier nodded again and believed him. If Geralt said it will be fine, then it will be fine. He trusted him to keep him safe. Also this seemed like a great opportunity to compose great new songs about the sturdy keep of the mighty witchers and the bravery of the Lion Cub of Cintra.

Geralt entered the keep and Jaskier followed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For everyone who got this far, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed it!  
> If you have any questions, you can ask me anytime, but hopefully the next part of the series will satisfy your curiosity.  
> If you liked this one, you might enjoy my other works in this fandom, here are some of them:  
> [Hunger at last](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23451478) \- modern AU with magic  
> [The Companion](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23280208) \- decades past since their fight on the mountain, yet Jaskier doesn't look a day older  
> [Of Banquets and Destinies](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23266564) \- Destiny leaves crumbs for Geralt to follow, so he can find his bard

**Author's Note:**

> As you all know kudos and comments are love and power and I always love to hear from you guys!  
> Stay safe everyone!


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